


Our Odd City - A Monsterhearts Story

by TiffsRevenge



Category: Monsterhearts (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiffsRevenge/pseuds/TiffsRevenge
Summary: A new school year at Tecaster University.Four completely normal students from various backgrounds, and an apparent broken rule in the feywilds.What could possibly go wrong?





	Our Odd City - A Monsterhearts Story

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note:  
> This is a game my friends and I are playing weekly.  
> It will mostly be told from my character(Roxanne Duval)’s perspective. So I hope you enjoy.

September 13th, a new school, a new start, new people, and a new year to make a name for yourself and a make mark in people’s minds.

**Roxanne Duval.**  
The daughter of a successful business man and highly respected lawyer, at least thats what she told people. The reality was a tad darker. Roxanne’s father, Simon Duval, was the head of the biggest drug cartel this side of London; her mother, Leanna Duval, made her name as a defence attorney known for getting criminals off their sentences.

They lived in the high upper area of the city, where cars cost more than the average house and the houses were comparable to that of castles.  
Roxanne Duval however lived in her own little bubble of luxury. A penthouse apartment at the centre of the city. With a wrap around balcony, coded access, and a range of employees at her beck and call there wasn’t much she could ever ask for or what. Accept her family’s approval.

An only child, the family business fell to Roxanne when she came of age, and from sixteen years old she knew what her parent’s did to maintain their lifestyle. Roxanne did it to, her knowledge of narcotics, their uses, their doses, their effects soon becoming a second easy language to her and by the time she was eighteen she had her own little group making life easier.

Melissa Romani, a family friend and Roxanne’s right hand. She was quiet, calculated, and usually looked over, making her the perfect little ear for Roxanne throughout the city. Jessie Ugnova, a hard hitting, shit talker that acted as the muscle of the group. While they we’re known to start more fights than prevent them, they had their uses. And Jordan Grimm, a scruffy little homeless boy when Roxanne met him had quickly flourished in to an all out diva with the eight inch heels to match. He’d been the toughest to break originally, but now he was loyal to a fault.

They shared the penthouse in the centre of the city making their own home away from prying eyes. Under a strict set of rules the group set up to protect them, everyone seemed to thrive. They learnt and grew together. Until things began to change.

**Jonas Karlsen.**  
Originally from Norway, he’d come to the city three months ago. No family, a backpack of clothes, and a single apartment set up for him by the University he was looking to attend.

Jonas came from a pack on the coast of Norway, where alphas were respected and rarely challenged, especially if they were your own flesh and blood. But, Jonas was a fighter, and after trying to take on his own father, he’d been left outcast.

Now he was angry and alone, and not long after arriving had begun to catch eyes within the fighting rings. He wasn’t good enough for any kind of sponsorship mind, his strength came from anger and that was hard to control let alone train. But the eagle eyed kept him within their sights at any fight and Jonas had began to notice the blue haired woman and her lackeys as they made their way through crowds and lurked in the dark corners of fighting rings.

Each night he returned to his apartment, showered, ate what little he could scrounge from small winnings, and carved. He carved images of his home, of myths, of stories, of the pack. He missed his mother, and his friends, and knowing he could never return became a large burden for him to carry until he could unleash it within the ring again.

**Nia Quirine.**  
A new life, a new name, a restart. Just another year in Nia’s many, they all blended together after a while, but they always found themselves coming back to this city and to one of their many homes. 

A large penthouse apartment that some would say was too big for them alone. Nia disagreed obviously, as their apartment was filled with things of their life. Multiple instruments lined the walls alongside knick-knacks and trinkets that would probably be labelled as artefacts if they ever found their way to a museum. But to Nia they were simply collections gathered over a long life, or rather many lives as they presented themselves simply as family members dating back generations.

Nia loved life, they loved people, and they liked keeping in touch with the people that they knew all over the world. This city was no different. They knew most of the families that had been here their whole lives. They knew the usual haunts and party places, places they’d seen built, remodelled, destroyed, rebuilt, and remodelled again. Some of the faces changed but the names rarely did.

She’d known the Duval family line for a long time, and was usually found alongside their success while still maintaining her own life and secrets. They’d fallen hopeless for Roxanne as she’d come of age, the connections with the family kept Nia in Roxanne's life until they was almost cemented there. Nia actually found themselves looking forward to another three years of study, they’d be doing it with Roxanne.

Nia just wished that Roxanne’s life could be as long as her own. Maybe their was a way to make that happen?

**Martine Umana.**  
Wake early, work out, read, practise, dance, eat, read, practise, sleep early. That was Martine’s life, it had always been. His community in Columbia was a loving and supportive one. So when he decided he wanted to dance, he was presented with every opportunity to do so. In turn it presented him with a way to address and pay homage to Terpsicore without words or strict ritual prayer.

Even moving to the UK to study, while daunting, had been an exciting opportunity. He looked forward to the difference, even though he knew it would be difficult. The language barrier was one thing, but stepping in to the studio apartment that the university had set him up in was another reality all together. Few people spoke to one another, mainly just getting one with their own lives, and those that did speak were usually just polite conversations in elevators or sharing cigarettes on the pavement outside.

He hoped the dance class would be different. He'd seen and worked with a couple of them already at the dance studio, not far from his home. A rather nervous boy by the name of Zachary Carter, and a girl by the name of Anna Mills. They'd seemed nice enough, dedicated enough, perhaps they were what he was looking for?


End file.
